The Church, My Family, My Community

I never thought I would be so blessed. These are my friends, people I love being around, talking to, and hearing from. They are vulnerable, adaptable, honest, and funny. I couldn't ask for a better place to pastor. And I can't wait to see how our future together progresses.

Here's a pic of our Sunday School class. They're awesome.

Giving

I asked the Sunday School class at New Wash to ask come up with some questions they'd like answered for the next four weeks. We're taking a break from our book study and spending some time letting their curiosities drive the discussion.

This week, we treated the subject of giving, particularly in light of tight finances.

I was immensely encouraged by the question. No one asks that question who isn't actually trying to live out the Christian faith. The heart behind the question is one that genuinely wants to follow the Lord, and really needs help figuring out how to do it.

Anyway, I'm coming up with some practical ways to help with that question. We covered 2 Cor 9 and the concept of tithe in the Scriptures. But I'm open so suggestions for how you plan your giving for each semester, year, week. I'm looking for practical plans, here, not necessarily a biblical theology on giving.

Children At Play

"Take me away from here," shouted Lucille to her deep red-coloured steed. Lucille's imagination successfully transformed a rather skinny 7 yr old, next door neighbor, Wendell Thacker into a giant Clydesdale.
"I'm goin'" he retorts in the truest of horse-sounding voices, but with a hint of chagrin. While it was a complex turn of creativity to take the vision of Wendell and mold it into a stallion, slightly more difficult was Wendell's job of forging a princess--flowing blond hair, white, sparkling dress, and most importantly, comfortably light--from little Lucille Veronica Jane Hammersmith--pudgy, wiry black hair, and demanding. Indeed, it was the case that Wendell's fantasy of his noble courage in the face of certain death and danger was interrupted every once and awhile by a swift shot to the ribs from the hurried princess's heels. Or when they, atop a fiery mountain, surrounded by evil trolls, depended now upon his skill and speed to jump to safety, she applied a not-so-gentle switch to his behind--enough to rouse Wendell from his fairy tale world. Of course, Lucille found it only appropriate. After all, he was a horse, she a fair maiden. But it was in those moments that Wendell was brought back to reality. The switch hurt. The heels hurt. Her heaviness was uncomfortable.
While we think those moments would be enough to undo Wendell from this world of imagination, and while we believe that surely this boy will take no more from Lucille Hammersmith, we think that those were two unordinary children, not destined for unusual glories, are simply children having a play at adventure. And we would be wrong.
Wendell, startled to reality by the switch, would from time to time lapse, not from imagination to reality, but from imagination to reality to imagination. You see, Wendell secretly loved Lucille. And so he would fall from the mountainside of trolls into burgeoning annoyance with Lucille and further into a world where love in fact truly binds soul mates together. He couldn't articulate how he knew, or anything about what marriage was like; he couldn't even tell you that he loved her. But deep in his soul, that 7 year old boy understood a timelessness to their friendship. It plummeted the depths of his little heart. And he knew it to be true.

(Beginning of a short story).
BSS

Down and Out

So...
We've all been sick lately. Ben B. had it rough this morning, Jeff is still feeling effect, Reagan experienced some of the bug also this morning, and I just officially surrendered my stomach as of 12.55 am. We all see each other a lot, so we think the bug is common to us all, and it has affected us in different ways. But the effects have lingered so with some, that we (or I'm at least) beginning to suspect otherwise.

Possible theories:
1) Everyone just happened to get sick in the same way on the same day from a different bug. This theory I call, "The Coincidence." I ate some bad lettuce, Ben B. was nervous about preaching, Jeff got food poisoning, and Reagan--well, it was just a day for the bottom to fall out.
-->Problem: Least likely to account for all the data.

2) "The Bathroom." Somehow, during the downstairs deepclean, a malicious, age-old, slumbering virus was aroused (out from behind the toilet perhaps) and set out to attach those who attempted its ruin.
-->Problem: Abe hung out with the boys who have it the deepclean (Jeff and Ben B.) and he went unscathed. Maybe the bug only hates those who hate it.

3) "The Dave." We all went to Wendy's last night, where Jeff inhaled a delicious meal of doublecheese burgers, etal. Food Poisoning?
-->Problem: I didn't eay anything from Dave.

4) "The Saboteur." We also all went to Sojourn last night, and everyone enjoyed some coffee. But perhaps a coffee bean preparer didn't wash his hands enough. Or perhaps he thought it would be a memory for the making to slip a little "Hoo-Hoo" into the pot of brewed Decaf. I'm not throwing it out. Everyont who drank (I think) also got some sickness.
-->Problem: Do people really do that?

Of all the possible suggestions, I lean towards #4. Am I saying someone at Sojourn did the deed? No. But some scoundrel polluted the Joe. And his day's coming.

BSS

More snow

Oh. For Summer...

The Tribute Continues

Gaines,

When you play, I play
When I play, you play

Thanks for showing me that no moment is invulnerable to the powers of imagination. And that there's no such thing as a boring time--that "boring" is just a lazy person's way of describing opportunity for the creative.

Tribute To My Brother

This post celebrates the life of Daniel Gaines Stubblefield. Who else would fish for white trout in Dog River at 9pm in the middle of December in a Russian winter hat...and call it a good time?

Cheers,
BSS

Depression in Big Blue Nation

Patrick Patterson is out for the rest of the season with a stress fracture. I guess there is always next year.
The Trav

Text Messaging and Face Book: The downfall of Society

In recent months I have observed a conflict between two friends of mine. The main problem in this conflict is the fact that they have not actually discussed the problem. The whole conversation has taken place between Face Book and text messaging. These two means of communication are taking the place of all one on one communication in modern society. People have no ability to confront and deal with problems and conflict. This approach to conflict resolution seems to be gutless, ineffective, and unbiblical. I partake in both of these things, and I pray that I will never loose the ability to deal with conflict.
The Trav

New Years Resolutions?

How're they coming?

I took this at the subway in NYC, shortly after making a few. I've got some work to do on mine. Anybody else?
Peace,
BSS

Abe Unplugged II

Unbelievable.

Abe Unplugged

Honest--Part III

After a few months of silence, I thought it was time to finish the 3 part series on the family. I like my family because they're honest. The most challenging things any person has ever said to me have come from my family. They're honest about the condition of their soul, their failures, their successes, their dreams, their hurts, and their joys. And, especially important to me, they are unafraid to be honestly critical. I've, no doubt, been confronted more by my family than any other friend or group of friends I've ever had. There is not even a close second. Their confrontations are not overbearing (usually) because they come from a compassionate heart.

How grateful!! My heart, blinded to the parts of its own decay, is made aware of its sinful rot by my family's caring cries of alarm. With tears, they warn. Terrified at the imagination of their son's and their brother's self-corruption, they call out, "Sin no more." And in the voice of my family, I hear the voice of Jesus, whose words resuscitate the dead, dark corners of my heart and revivify the will. Preach to me, Family, and in the power of the Spirit, help me live.

Much Love.

Ps. The pic is of St. George. The image is particularly inspiring to me. Probably a post or two on it later, but it does not have much to do with this post except, if I am able to thrust a spear into the throat of the dragon, it will be because my family has seated me on the horse (and b/c my parents probably paid for the spear).

Hospitality--Part II

The pic is of the bazillion trays that my mom pulls out every Christmas season for the annual evening of carolling at our house. She makes a ton of chili, and has everyone that comes carry it around on a metal tray.

The picture is slightly humorous to me. How in the world did we collect so many trays?

And the picture also reminds me of the gospel. Jesus lowered himself to look after others' interests. Our benefit came to us at his great cost. I love going home because I get a glimpse of selflessness in my family's generosity and hospitality in the form of chili and trays. Certainly, the dollar value of our metal trays doesn't even begin to compare to the sacrifice of heaven. But in a very small way, it does allude to the glory of the gospel. Those who have been given much, give much. Those who have been forgiven much, love much.

Here's to chili and Christmas trays,
BSS